to end an awful year
I kissed someone
and ****** someone else,
he left bruises
in the shape of his hands
and scratches covering my back
just the way I like it
but the entire time i couldn’t help
wishing he was anyone else

Maybe even the tall one
with the pretty smile and
really good ****
whom I met on the train
or maybe he could have been
the one that ****** me standing,
holding me in the middle of the living room
all bulging muscles and dark skin

or the boy I’ve spent 5 years
trying to get to admit he cares
about more than just my small body
writhing underneath his
and I’ll continue searching
for something I’m missing
and when I don’t find it in a lover
I’ll disappear and search for
anything else to keep me
from getting too attached